


you and i, collide

by sultrygoblin



Category: Re-Animator (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24250396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrygoblin/pseuds/sultrygoblin
Summary: one shot - this wasn’t happening. it couldn’t be happening. and if it was it definitely couldn’t be for the right reasons. he was lonely, it was the only explanation that made sense to her.
Relationships: Daniel Cain/Reader, daniel cain/original female character
Kudos: 3





	you and i, collide

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote herbert and i felt like i had to do dan because there’s just not enough of them. this is one imagination of what dan is like in bed but i’ve got a whole bunch of others.

It was a strange moment when everything changed. Peculiar might be more accurate as everything about their life now seemed to be fantastical, but it was odd all the same. Mostly because that was not the way Daniel Cain looked at you. Not once, not ever. Which had suited you fine. Not that you hadn’t wanted him to look at you in that particular way. What warm-blooded woman wouldn’t? But you were a realist and while you knew you were attractive, you just didn’t quite rise to his caliber. It would’ve required a step stool, at least. Which was fine, since your particular level had never been too shabby. At least, it hadn’t been before Herbert had appeared in their lives, taking the spare room, the basement, and what was left of the character you had believed yourselves to possess. Which takes a massive toll on the love life. For a variety of reasons that had been best left ignored, as most things these days were. If you had been paying attention it might not have seemed all that surprising. At least, that’s what had been laid at your feet by hindsight. Each one of them had their blind spots and it seemed Dan had been yours.

It was a relatively normal night, slow, all things considered, being forced out of the lab by Herbert somewhere just before midnight. He needs space to think, didn’t you know that? It was strange that now being kicked out was synonymous with being covered in blood, as was you lot in life it seemed. Which meant a lot of time spent in the laundry room and an incredible skill to remove the deep red stains, even from cream-colored clothing. As unfortunately you blouse had been. Herbert was in the basement with no intention of coming up and Daniel was off, well, you assumed gallivanting about with whatever piece of arm candy he’d decided was his heart and soul of the week. You had set the shirt up with cleaning solution, the small camisole enough for now in the privacy, as you gathered assorted another laundry to fill the time, rinse, repeat and you were loading the washer. It was an almost soothing process, something about it being the only thing of them that would ever truly be clean had crossed your mind more than a few times. You had decided at that point it was best not to think about it and simply enjoy one of the few predictable activities in your life. You were so few and far between these days.

That should have been the hint that some new can of worms was going to open itself, with or without anybody’s permission. Dropping the lid, you had just spun the dials into place and yanked the dial forward when something happened. Something altogether bewildering it took around a minute for you to even realize anything had occurred because it wasn’t something your mind had ever been prepared to process. Which was Dan’s arms around you. Not like normal, not across the shoulder or a tight embrace of relief. It wasn’t that whisper-light fingertips pressed to one hip when you were cooking or to urge you out of the way. This was in response to nothing. Absolutely nothing. You hadn’t even known he was here. He’d had a date or a shift or something that was supposed to keep him away. He wasn’t supposed to catch you doing laundry in a far too revealing, far too thin camisole. Supposed to, a naive two words you still needed to scrub from your mental dictionary. There was nothing of the sort anymore.

He was much warmer than you had imagined, your back pressed to his clearly uncovered torso and his arms around you. Pressing just a bit tighter than necessary, his head dropped to rest on your shoulder. There was still the faint nuance of that Davidoff cologne about him. You didn’t know much more than its bottle matched yours too much and had lead to more than a few wrong spritz. More than anything he smelt like him, a soft, mellow scent that seemed sweeter than the masculine musk you’d grown used to in your formative years.

“H-Hey, Dan,” you managed to push out, screwing the lids back on the detergent and fabric softener, “You alright?” choking down the awkward laugh that threatened to bubble out of your throat.

“You’ve commandeered all my shirts,” he said, unmoving and leaving you no other option than to continue whatever path this was.

“That means all your shirts were dirty,” you shot back, thankful for instinct as you tried to focus on keeping your breathing normal and not how much you were enjoying this, “Which seems more like a you problem.”

He laughed, a quiet thing that vibrated along your skin, “What’s your excuse then?” feeling his pinky skate passed the short hem and across your skin, a purposeful movement that made you breathe shake.

“I thought you had a date,” you answer, not intending for your tongue to curl around the world and spit it out as you do. It must be something you’d picked up from their roommate, you hope. At least then it could be unlearned.

“Would that bother you?” you don’t have to look to know he’s smiling, you know the voice, “Sounds like it might.”

“Dan, this isn’t funny,” you didn’t know what else to say.

This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening. And if it was, it definitely couldn’t be for the right reasons. He was lonely. It was the only explanation that made sense to you. Daniel needed to need with Herbert’s work he hadn’t had the chance to find himself a new Ms. America contestant and was forced to be opportunistic. It wasn’t lost on you how full of self-loathing that seemed but the only other option was this is exactly what it seemed back. Self-loathing was much easier to swallow.

“I’m not trying to be,” there was no snicker, nothing that lightened the mood.

His voice is low and breathy, his chin moved, the tip of his nose pressed to your temple. Self-loathing had been wrong, it seemed. Which would be a horror you’d deal with later because you couldn’t handle its betrayal and the sudden onslaught that came with his tenderness. It’s a new sensation. Not just from him, from anyone. Your mind seems to go through the catalog of your life at an incomprehensible speed but only has a Jane Austen quote to offer. There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart. It feels a little on the nose but so everything had been just off of being expected so perhaps it was just as precise as it needed to be. That glowing sludge had changed far more than you had ever expected it would.

“Herbert was right,” his voice a murmur that forces you to listen and draws you in deeper, “You’ve never noticed,” he seems hurt by the thought, it makes you own heartache even as you wonder what he means, “After Meg, I always thought…” the barest tip of his nose traces the curve of your ear before burying it in the sensitive flesh just behind.

Electricity shoots through you at how his words and actions combine in this perfect choreography that dampens your panties and peaks you nipple, the silky fabric pressed against them only seemed to add to everything. It’s mesmerizing, how quickly your body seemed to react to the smallest of touches from him. How would you react when- if-

“I always thought it’d be you.”

Your body would give out was the answer, knees buckling, and if it weren’t for Dan you’d be a puddle on the ground. He was right though. You’d been so focused on never mistaking anything for interest that you had blinded yourself. His lips are soft just behind your ear and your neck.

“I saw you, like this,” his hand skates across your exposed belly, “Now or never,” your head topples back when he began to suckle at your pulse, “Isn’t that what Herbert’s always saying?”

You laughed, “Not quite,” eyes fluttering closed, “Why didn’t you just-”

“Tell you?” his laugh rumbling his chest and shaking your entire body, “I wanted to. So many times.”

He leaned back slightly, his hand holding your cheek, the tip of your nose touches his, you’re so close.

“I’m telling you now.”

Your breath hitched and stopped, exhaling with the same staccato sound, “I didn’t think you’d,” you run the tip of your tongue along your lips, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Exactly.”

For a moment, you’re not even sure you’re kissing, he’s being so gentle. The sudden sound of the washer changing settings reminded them of where you were, and reluctantly you pulled from the far too short kiss. He let you step away and spin before hooking his index fingers through the front most belt loop of your jeans. Your mind is trying to formulate any cohesive thought with the sudden image before you. Every muscle and angle of his torso was on display, you were sure tender was not the only mode he had, tracing the round of his arms to the shaggy cut of his hair. Finding those incisive greens finishing their own appraisal. You’ve always counterbalanced the bright green that had changed your lives but more akin to jade dragons. You make you smile when nothing else does. That should’ve been your first clue you were never going to make it out of this house unscathed. One way or another.

“Do I get to keep you?” you asked, finding the odd wording the closest language could come to the burning question.

He nodded slowly, “I was going to ask you the same thing,” tugging you a bit closer when a smile split your face, “I’m sorry.”

“I am too,” pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his lips, “We should-”

“DANIEL!” a familiar shout that caused them to jump away from each other as if burned, “I need you!”

He yanked an alright undershirt from the basket that would be the next load, “Soon,” pressing another tender kiss to your lips that stole your breath and disappearing around the corner.

“What the hell was that?” it was the only clear thought left in you.

{}

Time is relative in their house. You’s finished the laundry, had some dinner, and were on the couch with a book when you dozed off. It might’ve been the next day or a few hours, you weren’t sure. Just that you woke to a gentle hand stroking your cheek, nose tracing up and down the curve of your own. It’s a way you’s never woken up before and you’s almost afraid to. Dan had other plans, lips pressing softly to one cheek then the other. One to each closed but twitching eye. But he hovers over your lips, not even a pucker away but still not touching. It’s agonizing and you can’t stop yourself from pressing forward. This is not even close to how you had kissed in the laundry room. It’s just as gentle but with far more need, all wrapped with a sensuality you can honestly say you’s never felt. It’s as if the only thing that matters to him is this moment, this light brush of lip to lip. You feel giddy, smiling against his lips, and you are far too warm in all the right ways.

“Though I’d wake you up,” you flush at the unstoppable small whine that escaped your throat at the separation, “Sleeping on the couch always makes you grumpy.”

“My hero,” you sighed, body still too groggy to really move but your mind abuzz, “How long have I been out?” before realizing he would have no real idea.

“Not long I think,” running his hand gently through your hair, “We might have caught it just in time for a real bed to save you.”

“Is that your professional opinion?” you shot back, he sure was making it difficult to want to get up.

He nodded, “It is. Might be best if I keep an eye on you,” from anyone else it would’ve been cheesy.

You’d be rolling your eyes by now normally, “Is that a clever way of inviting yourself into my bed?” but everything from him is honest and sweet, “Or me into yours?”

“You do have all that down bedding,” his palm suddenly against your cheek, thumb stroking tenderly, “I’m not-” he swallowed hard, taking a deep breath, “I’m not expecting anything.”

“I know,” brushing your fingertips across his lower lip, “It’s alright Daniel, it’s just me.”

“I think that’s the problem,” pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, “Let’s get you to a real bed.”

He does, with all the grace and charm that only a ruggedly boyish doctor like himself can manage. At the stairs he’d given up helping you for carrying you, something neither of them seemed to mind. He laid you carefully in the bed, closing the door and staring at as you remove your socks and jeans before making your way onto the bed and clicking on the bedside lamp. He flipped the main light off, seeming to consider his options before removing his button-up and slacks, he thought about sending it away with is other clothing but he didn’t. He had meant what he said, he needed you to know that. Among other things. Taking a deep breath, Daniel finally managed to turn around. Both of them not quite sure what to say as you took each other in.

You’s forgone the modesty he’d offered you, sitting on top of the blankets with bent knees, arms wrapped around your shapely legs, chin resting in the valley you pressed knees created. Down a pleasant thigh, over the silken lavender panties that compliment the white camisole against your flesh and traced your backside. Just earlier you had seen him without the fabric. But it’s different now, here. He’s looking at you like he used to look at Meg, how he’d looked Herbert’s burgeoning creation, you are the only thing that matters. You never thought he’d look at anyone like that again, never mind you, but here he was. You don’t remember moving, just that you’re on your knees at the edge of the bed when his ankles hit the frame, locked in those greens that had become stormy, barely visible against a blown pupil. There’s no thought, wrapping your fingers in the bottom of the flimsy cotton and tugging it over his head before doing the same with your own top. His kiss is just as soft but his touch more than that, feather-light in a way that leaves you aching all over. The barest of fingertips down your neck, across your jutted collar bones, just a thumb tracing the inner curve of your breast. You gasp against his lips when his first firm touch is the tender way he holds your breast in his hand. Everything about the way he moves is slow and gentle, not like you’s glass but like he almost doesn’t believe you’s real. That this is all happening. His tongue traces the curve of your parted bottom lip, snaking his arm around your bare waist as his thumb brushes across a rising nipple.

“I’m not,” his lips pull from yours to trace across your jaw, “You don’t,” it’s not hard to piece together what he’s trying to say.

One last chance to stop this if you wasn’t ready, if it wasn’t what you wanted, before the night is over you promises he’ll wonder how he could ever think you didn’t want this with him. His thumb moves back and forth slowly, sending jolts up your spine and muddling your mind. His teeth scraped the sensitive skin of your neck, another gasp and your fingers are tight in his hair, the other steadying yourself with a firm grip on the curve of his shoulder.

“I didn’t think you wanted me,” finally able to let loose the words you hadn’t before.

He urges you back with his lips, trusting his grip as you back arched at his ministrations, “All the time,” the tip of his tongue traced the hollow of your throat, you moan, “Every second,” taking you hard but ignored nipple between his lips.

He lowered you gently back against the bed, never stopping his attentions, knees knocking against his hips, unable to press his lower half to yours quite yet. He trades off, your chest rises and falls against his face as you struggle for breath, he can hear your heartbeat. Perfect and thunderous in his ears. He could stay here for hours. Feeling you panting, making you feel good, all with that perfect soundtrack. One day. He cages your waist in his hands, moving further down, the tip of his tongue a gentle reminder of where he was along his path. Till his nose nudged the edge of your panties, his mouth pressing an open mouth kiss over the fabric, you’d expected him to stop. Most men did. Daniel wasn’t most men, his lips move further and press another kiss at the top of you damp slit. Then just have an inch lower, the light pressure against your clit making you inhale sharply. His eyes are on you the whole time, it’s like everything’s stopped and somehow it’s just the two of them. Gently his thumbs hooked in your panties, easing them off you with the same gentle care. His knuckles against your skin, his lips place soft kisses to your thigh, knee, the inside of your ankle, tossing the scrap of fabric. His kisses resume, traveling up and up till once more you press against you, but there’s no barrier. You mewl at the sensation, hands fisted in the blankets, and looking down at him with a mixture of pleasure, fear, and anxiety that pressed him onward. He could easily make two of those feelings disappear.

Your head falls back when his tongue dips between your folds, gathering the sour-sweet taste of you on his tongue. It’s only after Daniel realized the moan that lingered in the air had been his, not yours. Hooking your leg over his shoulder, he pressed forward, lapping softly at the bundle of nerves that quivered beneath his attention. The hand in his hair is calming, reminding him he’s doing all the right things as he presses with more confidence. Your hips twitch at his attention, barely-there moans falling between heavy breaths. Your skin beads with sweat even as you shiver. His tongue teases your hole, relishing in the way it quivered at his attentions. He continues his ministrations, alternating between both sets of nerves with languid movements. Your sharp breaths become pants, you moan no longer barely there, fingers gripping his hair tightly, your muscles locking and twitching. The taste and smell of you assaults his senses, setting off a spark he hadn’t expected. You brought his lips to yours, you need to kiss him overpowering your own taste on his lips added fuel to this new fire he was feeling inside. Your hands scrabbled for the waist of his underwear, he stopped you, reluctantly breaking the kiss.

“No, that’s not what I want,” easing back onto his knees to pull them off and down, “Not this time.”

He resumes his place hovering over you, pressing himself more and more against you as he lost himself in your lips and tongue against his. You cling to him, knees bent, legs rubbing along his hips and ribs. Pulling away slowly, you lower lips between his teeth, he shifted his hips and pressed upward. You gasped, the hard tip of his cock pressed against your sensitive hole, waiting for permission. There’s no need to ask. You press against him and slowly he sinks into you.

“Oh Daniel,” you gasped, watching his eyes search yours, “You feel so good,” and it seemed to satiate whatever last tiny worry was in him.

He didn’t thrust as you expected, holding you as tightly as you held him, forehead to yours. He rolled his hips, hitting so many nerves you hadn’t known existed and the others never having been touched quite like this. It’s a steady movement, one that keeps them pressed tightly together in the way you both desperately crave. His teeth run along your skin, tasting your warmth, feeling your heartbeat against his. The build-up has never felt like this before, the coil is tighter than it’s ever been and for the briefest second, you’re almost worried what will happen when it snaps.

“If it had been you,” you kiss the thought away, panting against his lips, giving him you need.

He presses harder and it’s like an avalanche. Small, just a tickle, the small warning that something huge is coming. It’s hidden underneath how he looks at you now, the way he whispers your name, a secret only he gets to know. It snaps violently, and it’s like nothing you’s ever felt before. The world comes crashing down on you, you chase the high, pressing against him. Begging, borderline crying, anything to feel more. For the feeling to finally crest and overtake you.

“It’s okay,” biting back his own peak with the promise that you’ll drag him down with you, “I’ve got you.”

You scream, a sound you can’t stifle and is glad Daniel has the presence of mind to press his lips to yours. It doesn’t do as much as it good but neither could think about that. You clamped around him tighter than anything he’d ever felt, that warmth washing over him from all sides. Nails in his flesh, teeth against his, cling to him as you screamed and panted. He can’t anymore, holding you close, you own impossibly tight spasms dragging his it from him with a loud cry he’d never made before. Not wanting the sensation of you gripping him as he filled you to be one of those never-ending feelings. He doesn’t move though, not yet. Everything about you is too perfect to leave but he has to. Gently, and with a whine of disappointment from you that makes him smile, he pulls himself from you and lays beside you.

“That was,” you sighed, running the back of your hand along his chest as you turned their heads to look at each other, “That was the first time it’s ever been like that.”

He pulled you close, kissing you tenderly, “That’s all it’s ever going to be.”


End file.
